


Much Ado About Nothing

by TheCasualPasserby



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Just gals being pals, and talking about skating, where did all these shakespeare references come from, yuri's angels are scary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 05:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11097615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCasualPasserby/pseuds/TheCasualPasserby
Summary: Two fandoms, both alike in dignity(At Skate Canada, where the world's best compete),Begin a violent war quite suddenlyProvoked by one night's worth of angry Tweets.Within these fandoms are two skating fansWho like each other just for who they areTogether they will spite the fandom banAnd thus begins our story most bizarre.tl;dr: What if a member of Yuri's Angels fell in love with a member of JJ's Girls?





	Much Ado About Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> For @felicitatem on tumblr, who posted the inspiration for this nonsense. I promise all the Shakespeare references are unintentional.

Uliana Dmitrievna Volkova wakes up to _Allegro Appassionato in B Minor_ blaring out of her phone and stretches, groping around for her glasses. Before finding them her hand grazes her third favorite Yuri Plisetsky body pillow, knocks a plastic collector's figurine off the nightstand, and nudges a small scrapbook she's compiled of all the best moments from last year's Junior Grand Prix tournament.

When in enemy territory, Anya finds it helpful to be completely absorbed in the fandom.

She pushes the glasses on (the frames are purple, because there’s a very convincing post floating around online claiming that it’s Yura’s favorite color) and blinks to clear the sleep from her eyes, then immediately checks the official Yuri’s Angels app to coordinate everyone at Skate Canada today.

In the hotel room's other bed, her father is beginning to stir, muttering something about that godforsaken song his daughter uses for an alarm, so Anya chooses to ignore him and instead prepares for the day ahead of her. All of the necessary equipment is already laid out on the dresser: her clothes for the day, a bag with some money and her Skate Canada ticket inside, a pair of cat ears, and an enormous banner that Dad will carry to the short program separately. She gets dressed--the cat ears are tucked carefully in her bag for later--and ties back her hair, then flops down on the hotel bed to wait for Dad to get ready. Since the last time she checked Yura’s Twitter (eight hours previously, just before she went to bed), he has posted two entire rants in both English and Russian detailing his new hatred for fellow competitor Jean-Jacques Leroy, so she does what she has to do on the official Yuri’s Angels messenger app.

**@yuris_angels_4  
Calling all Angels! In case any of you haven’t checked Yura’s Twitter recently (which, lol) he’s having “personal issues” with Jean-Jacques Leroy of Canada. Now, harassing Leroy is out of the question (we’re totally not that kind of fandom), but to show our support for Yuratchka we’re enacting a FANDOM BAN: nobody in the Plisetsky fandom is to buy Jean-Jacques Leroy’s merchandise, cheer for him during his programs, or be more than polite to any of his groupies. I don’t know if he has a fanclub or whatever, but if they’re carrying a Canadian flag stay away. Just to be safe!  <3**

**@yuris_angels_27  
@yuris_angels_4 I appreciate that you vetoed harassment and all, but don’t you think that’s a little harsh? Especially the cheering during his programs part. Yuratchka might have just had a bad day, we don’t need to start another Kenjirou Minami incident over a few tweets.**

**@yuris_angels_4  
@yuris_angels_27 I don’t think it will do any harm, and our Yura’s at a time in his career where he needs emotional validation! Leroy’s not like Yuuri Katsuki who’s got, like, crippling self-esteem issues. If anything, he’s overconfident. Losing the support of a few skating fans isn’t going to hurt him, and it might help Yura to see that there are people who care about his feelings.**

**@yuris_angels_27  
@yuris_angels_4 If you’re sure, I guess.**

Her nose is in her phone for the entire bus ride, fielding questions left and right from the many Yuri's Angels who have to sit Skate Canada out. Some are saving their plane fare for the Final. Others just prefer to livestream from the comfort of their home. Not Anya. It took months of begging and a fundraising campaign, but she's finally going to see Yuri Plisetsky skate in person. She doesn't realize she's hyperventilating until she starts feeling lightheaded.

As soon as the bus stops she’s walking fast up the aisle, calling back to Dad that she’ll catch up with him later. She’s almost out when someone steps out of the seat in front of her and they both fall forwards into the driver’s seat.

“Sorry! Sorry! Are you hurt?” The girl under her is short and a little on the chubby side. She wears a long-sleeved t-shirt with something written on the front and a dark green hijab with cream-colored stripes, which she is currently adjusting.

“I’m fine,” she says quietly, her voice shaky from surprise, and _wow_ she has pretty eyes in this lighting. They’re a shade of brown that Anya has never thought of as attractive before, but in the morning light shining through the open door of the bus--

Oh, right, she just tripped and fell on top of a stranger in the middle of a crowded bus, and everyone is staring at her and waiting for her to get up. She does. She offers a hand up to the girl with the pretty eyes, who takes it--her hands are dry and they have writer's callouses on the fingers--and she leaves the bus in a considerably more subdued mood than when she came in. It gets even more awkward when she realizes that she and Pretty Eyes are headed for the same place.

“Are you a skating fan, too?” she asks, deciding that you might as well be friendly to any person you’d accidentally body-checked.

Pretty Eyes beams and turns around, exposing the writing on her shirt. It says “JJ’s Girls” in heavily stylized lettering. Anya assumes ‘JJ’s Girls’ is a TV show or something. “Yes, I am,” the girl says. “I like your accent. Where’re you from?”

“Saint Petersburg,” Anya replies, feeling inordinately happy for reasons she’d rather not get into right now. “That’s in Russia.”

“I know. I’m Haifa Abadi, by the way.”

“Anya Volkova. Do you live around here?”

They continue talking all the way to the event. Anya learns that Haifa is from a small town in Québec and that she’s been skating since she was seven years old, but never got good enough to compete. She has very involved opinions on all of the skaters in the competition, and seems to think that Jean-Jacques Leroy has the best chance of winning.

“I can’t agree with you there,” Anya says very reasonably, “I think he’s overrated.”

Haifa’s face goes very still. It’s a nice face, Anya thinks, a round one with expressive features and, of course, those pretty brown eyes. But it doesn’t look happy right now. “I respect your opinion, but I’d like to know why you feel that way,” says Haifa. Her tone is grave.

“I just don’t agree with his interpretation of his free program,” says Anya, who has never seen Jean-Jacques Leroy skate in her life. She considers telling Haifa about the many unflattering things Yura has to say about him on Twitter, but experience has taught her that most people don’t consider Yura to be a credible source. Thankfully, Haifa does not pry any further and instead nods thoughtfully.

“I’ve heard that argument before, and I can understand where you’re coming from. A lot of people think he comes across as too prideful when the song’s supposed to be patriotic, but I don’t think he intended it that way! In fact, I wrote a piece on Tumblr about this. See, a skater’s artistic choices for any piece are drawn from their own experience. They’re trying to express how they feel about something! So Partizan Hope isn’t just about patriotism, it’s about JJ’s personal experience of patriotism and community…”

She feels something die inside her when Haifa uses the nickname, but she doesn’t yet realize why.

“...there’s nothing wrong with being confident in your abilities, right? And I think that being proud of who you are is a lot healthier way of expressing self-confidence than, like, Yuri Plisetsky’s temper tantrums.”

Anya stops short in the face of this blasphemy. She’s faced her fair number of haters online, of course, but hearing her idol insulted out loud is something new entirely. “What do you have against Yuri Plisetsky?” she demands in a humiliatingly high-pitched voice.

“Nothing really,” Haifa says, knitting her eyebrows. “I was just using him as an example. I think it’s sort of weird that he has so many fans when half his social media presence is just him whining about other skaters.”

“Yura doesn’t whine,” she growls, falling into one of her most well-rehearsed arguments, “He just has a very stressful life and he needs space to vent. I mean, have you seen his coach’s interviews? He doesn’t exactly promote healthy friendships between his skaters. It doesn’t seem like Yura has anyone to talk to about his problems, so he uses social media to express himself instead.”

Haifa shrugs. “I guess I never thought of it that way. I just think it’s weird that JJ gets grief for being proud of who he is. Yuri’s not awful, I guess. And he’s a very talented skater.”

She tries to resist singing Yuri’s praises for about three quarters of a second. She gives in. “I know, right? Can you believe that he practically coached himself on his short program? I mean, Victor Nikiforov choreographed it, but he fucked off to Japan to be a coach and Yura had to figure the rest out himself. And don’t get me started on his jumps!”

“I won’t,” Haifa mutters, but she doesn’t look upset so Anya continues.

“He wasn’t even allowed to do quads before the start of this season, and already he’s pulling off these flawless combinations that make me want to die every time I see them because they’re just so beautiful.”

“He’s easily the most flexible skater in the men’s division,” Haifa supplies with an adorable smile on her face that Anya wants to stare at for about an hour.

“I was just getting to that. He’s training with Lilia Baranovskaya, who’s like one of the best ballerinas in the world, and she’s said in interviews that he’s the most promising skater she’s ever worked with.”

“I’ve never read those interviews.”

“Well, they are in Russian.”

“Right.” Haifa smacked herself in the forehead. “I probably should have guessed you were here to support him. Wow, I feel like an idiot. I’m sorry I was so rude about it--”

“No, you’re fine, I just-”

“Anya!”

They turn abruptly, and Anya is unpleasantly surprised to see one of her fellow Yuri’s Angels running towards her, waving a pair of kitty ears in the air. “Vika,” she sighs, “What is it?”

“We were wondering what was taking you so long! How could you risk compromising this opportunity to see Yuratchka skate live with your tardiness? We saved you a seat,” Vika giggles, oblivious to the fact that she is interrupting a very interesting conversation. Anya does not like Vika or any of her faction of Yuri’s Angels: the ones who follow Yura around at every event, trying take pictures or steal locks of his hair or get him to autograph everything they own. Don’t they know that it’s socially acceptable to stalk people online nowadays? And that you learn more about people that way than by doing it in real life?

She turns to Haifa, trying to gently convey to Vika that she has no interest in talking to her, and asks in English, “Do you want to sit with me and my friends? You’re fun to talk to.”

“I...I’d love to, but I don’t want to butt in or anything…”

She grins and takes Haifa by the hand, pulling her towards the exit. “You’re going to love the gang, Haifa.”

 

Haifa does not love the gang. Haifa actually seems extremely uncomfortable with the cat ears the gang insists on wearing around inside the rink, and she looks like she might vomit when Anya pulls a matching pair of cat ears out of her bag. Anya considers putting them away, but several scandalized glares from the rest of the Angels when she tries to put them back in her bag stop her.

“Yuri Plisetsky really likes cats,” she attempts to explain, “So we wear the cat ears to show we support him.”

“I would have thought the giant banners with hearts all over them showed that pretty clearly.”

“Not everyone can carry a banner,” she points out helpfully, but Haifa still looks like she wants to run. Anya pats her arm reassuringly, which she seems to like for some reason. “At least we can talk about the short program while it’s happening in front of us, right?”

Haifa’s face brightens, which is a beautiful sight to see. “Right. I can’t wait to hear you tear apart Emil Nekola’s artistic choices.”

“What, you mean he made any artistic choices to begin with?”

They snicker together, reveling in the fiendish joy that is shared pettiness towards others, and everything is right with the world until the beginning of Agape. Yura soars onto the ice, looking young and golden and beautiful, and Anya is distracted by the even more beautiful sight that is Haifa clapping for her favorite skater right next to her. Haifa’s smiling that sweet little smile that she wore when she complimented Yuri’s talent as a skater, and Anya’s heart feels ready to beat out of her chest.

This, for the record, is the moment in which Anya realizes she has a crush.

Which is okay, she thinks. It’s probably not a serious thing, and it will go away once she’s back in Russia and Haifa is back in Québec. Right now they have a short program to focus on.

“Haifa! There you are!”

This, for the record, is the moment in which everything goes wrong.

There are two girls climbing over the back of the Angels’ seats, wearing the same ‘JJ’s Girls’ t-shirts as Haifa. Anya suddenly realizes why she’d felt sick when Haifa referred to Jean-Jacques Leroy as ‘JJ’. She turns to Haifa (her crush) without realizing the music has started. “You’re part of his fan club,” she breathes, “Aren’t you.”

There is no need to ask who ‘he’ is. Haifa nods, her gorgeous eyes shimmering sadly, and Anya finds herself unable to process the shock of this betrayal. Surprisingly, what’s most upsetting is that she played herself. She was the one who ordered the stupid “fandom ban” that forbids her from interacting with members of Jean-Jacques Leroy’s fan club.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks, and dammit, she’s going to cry now. She’s always cried too easily, but it’s never been so embarrassing as in the middle of an international skating competition over a girl she met forty minutes ago.

“I didn’t know about the whole fandom war thing until I checked my Instagram,” Haifa whispers, burying her face in her hands. “And then I was too embarrassed to say anything.”

The tears start rolling down her face, and she’s grateful Haifa can’t see them. “Just go,” she chokes, “You don’t have to hang out with me anymore.”

Haifa doesn’t respond, or even move until her friends from JJ’s Girls grab her gently by the arms and escort her to their own seats. She doesn’t look back.

On the ice, Yura finishes his program with his arms reaching upward like a prayer. Anya vaguely registers that she’s missed the whole program, but for the moment she’s too busy feeling sorry for herself to care.

 

Anya’s bad mood intensifies when Jean-Jacques Leroy’s short program outscores Yura’s--she imagines Haifa’s friends across the rink, squealing with joy--and lingers into the next morning as she wakes up in her hotel bed and knocks over every bit of merchandise she brought to Canada on her way to find her glasses. Getting on the bus only augments the feeling of general nastiness that’s ruining her excitement over the unveiling of _Allegro Appassionato in B Minor._ She can’t let a stupid crush and a fandom rivalry ruin this experience for her, so she tries to pin down what she’s feeling.

Betrayal is there, definitely: the pain of being deceived, of having Haifa keep something important from her after seeming so cool. Second on the list is self-deprecation: if she hadn’t gone and declared war after reading those tweets, she’d still be able to talk to Haifa without it being unspeakably awkward. She’s embarrassed that she cried in front of everyone and possibly in front of internationally broadcasting TV cameras. She’s disappointed that she missed the entirety of Agape. She’s sad that she’ll probably never get to see Haifa again. A hand taps her on the shoulder.

“Уходи, папа,” she sniffs, “Я не хочу об этом говорить.”

“Whoah, is that Russian?”

Anya looks up, gaping stupidly. Haifa is standing above her in the aisle of the bus, sans JJ’s Girls t-shirt and wearing a blue hijab today. “Uh, yes,” she says stupidly. “Why are you talking to me?”

Haifa looks hurt. “I just wanted to apologize. For, y’know, not doing anything yesterday when my friends showed up? I just felt so awkward. Look, I really-I really like you, and I wanted to talk to you again. I’m sorry. And I get it if you don’t want to talk anymore.”

“NO!” Her hand shoots out and grabs Haifa’s arm. “I mean, yes, uh, no, I mean, I do want to talk to you. About skating and...everything else.” Oh, no, Haifa’s wearing the adorable smile again. If she did that more often the JJ’s Girls would win this stupid war by default, because Anya would die of cardiac arrest. “What are we going to do about our stupid fandoms, though?”

Haifa’s eyes widen, which makes the light hit them in a pretty way but is probably an expression of worry. “I hadn’t really thought of that. Is it really that serious?”

“For us it is,” Anya says gravely. “Believe me, you don’t want to live through a repeat of the Kenjirou Minami incident. If we’re going to keep talking we’re going to have to do it in secret.”

“Have you ever read Romeo and Juliet? Hiding relationships isn’t the best idea for anyone involved.”

Anya’s heart starts beating irregularly and her world tips slightly to one side. “I thought that was a love story,” she says.

Haifa looks her dead in the eye. “Isn’t it?”

They’re leaning towards each other, mouths slightly parted, when the bus driver calls their stop. Haifa lets Anya get out first this time.

They can’t sit together at the free program, obviously, but they exchange contact information behind the cover of a large group of tourists before heading into the stadium separately. Haifa promises she’ll be at the Rostelecom Cup later in the season--it’s lucky that their favorite skaters have both their qualifying rounds together. Anya’s so excited that she can’t even feel devastated when Yuri gets second place at Skate Canada. There’s too much to look forward to this season.

They don’t see each other before Anya has to leave for the airport, but they keep texting until a stewardess has to tell her to put away her phone.

 

Anya is sitting on her bed, watching Yuuri Katsuki's free program and trying to determine whether it has a good chance of winning at the Rostelecom Cup, when a message from Haifa arrives. Squeaking like a desperate cat, she scrambles for her phone so fast she sends her second favorite Yuri Plisetsky body pillow flying onto the floor and opens the text with trembling fingers.

_I miss seeing ur face,_ Haifa says. Anya hugs her phone to her chest, retrieves the body pillow, and takes deep breaths until she feels emotionally ready to formulate a reply.

_Why didn’t you kiss it the last time you saw it then  
You lost face-seeing privileges sorry_

_I'm sooooooorreeeeeee_ Haifa replies immediately.  
_I looooooove uuuu  
plz send a selfie so i can kiss it now_

Anya attempts to take the picture, she really does, but halfway through she is overtaken with another fit of giggles and has to bury her head under the fallen body pillow so her parents don't come in to investigate. Be calm, she tells herself. Be logical. You are capable of functioning under the influence of a stupid teenage crush.

Logic does not stop her from combing through her unruly hair and taking off her glasses before taking the picture, or from experimenting with filters for a minute and a half before panicking over losing Haifa's interest. Logic does not stop her from using a more attractive selfie she took two weeks ago instead of the messy, poorly lit one she just took. _kiss away_ she says, much more flippantly than she actually feels, and goes back to scoping out the competition for about three more minutes.

Her message notification goes off again. So does the body pillow. The response is a dark, very blurry image with no discernible subject. Anya squints at it, trying to figure out what it is, before it clicks.

Haifa has kissed the camera.

She kind of, weirdly, wants to cry. Who cries over some girl they met once at a figure skating competition in Canada who they can't even talk to in public because of some stupid rivalry between their respective fan clubs? Nobody, that's who. Maybe creepy psychos. But Anya kind of feels like she should return the gesture.

As it turns out, it’s more difficult than it looks to take a selfie where you’re kissing the camera. Most of the time it turns out too dark, other times it focuses on her nose instead of her mouth. Eventually she just decides to slap a lipstick-print sticker on one of the blurry messes and calls it a day.

_Ur so sweet,_ Haifa says.  
_2 weeks until RC. I can’t wait to talk about skating with u in person again_

_If you want to do that now I was just watching Yuuri k’s FS  
His jumps could really use some work even if his step sequences are killer_

_Lol ikr  
Yuri P lands almost all his jumps :P_

_So does JJ ;)_

_Aaaaagghhhh my mom is calling me ttyl ily_

_Ily too_

 

While most of the other Yuri’s Angels wait for Yuri to arrive at the airport for the Rostelecom Cup, Anya follows a pair of JJ’s girls who arrived early to find Haifa’s flight. And she’s there, and she’s running into Anya’s arms, and she’s small and round and sweet-faced as Anya remembers, and she’s already babbling excitedly about how she was sitting five feet away from JJ Leroy for six hours and how amazing it is to see Anya again when Vika’s voice suddenly ruins their lives.

“Anya, you’re fraternizing with the enemy!”

Anya freezes with her arms around Haifa’s waist, but she has no time to pull away before the flash of a cell phone camera seals them to their fate. Vika is already posting the photo on the messenger app, where every active member of Yuri’s Angels will see it. Hopefully Haifa’s JJ’s Girls t-shirt isn’t easily visible and they’ll still be able to get out of this alive.

“Haifa, quit hugging that girl! She’s wearing cat ears!” This from a girl in a shirt with “JJ” written in an enormous red heart on it. Her shrill voice attracts the attention of several of her friends, who start approaching them with surprisingly menacing expressions.

Damn, she knew she’d forgotten something. She must have left the cat ears on after she ditched the rest of Yuri’s Angels. Still, it’s just Vika and JJ’s Girls who’ve noticed them so far. JJ’s Girls are known for being marginally more reasonable than Yuri’s Angels. She clings to Haifa protectively and holds out hope for their survival until she hears a chorus of female voices scream “ANYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” louder than Georgi Popovich during a free skate.

A literal horde of Yuri’s Angels is approaching at an alarming pace, cutting off the only available exit and scattering travelers in their wake, and this just isn’t fair. They should still be occupied trying to get autographs from their precious Yuratchka, what are they doing here so early?

As if reading Anya’s mind, one of their number announces, “First Yuratchka leaves early, and now we find one of our number cozying up to one of JJ’s Girls? This is a violation of fandom code, Anya!”

“It’s not like we’re thrilled about being associated with you crazy stalkers, either,” snarks one of the JJ’s Girls, a tall one with a snotty, stuck-up face. Anya only takes the time to register how objectively superior Haifa is to the rest of her fan club before stepping forward to defend herself.

“Fuck you all,” she says eloquently, to the annoyance of several parents waiting at the baggage carousel. “There’s more important things in life than fandom.”

The gaggle of Yuri’s Angels gives a collective gasp, but Anya ignores them.

“If we want to be together, we’re going to be together, and there’s nothing you can do about it! If Yuri and JJ themselves came down from the heavens and told us we couldn’t see each other again, we’d-we’d-”

“Defect to the Otababes?” Haifa suggests.

“Actually, I heard somewhere that Otabek Altin was an Angel.”

“Oh. Well, fuck him too, then. What are Yuuri Katsuki’s fans called?”

“I don’t know, look it up.”

Haifa does. The two camps of fangirls stare at them blankly for a second before Vika speaks up. “You know,” she says slowly and nastily, “That’s not such a bad idea.”

Anya’s stomach drops. “What, defecting to whatever Yuuri Katsuki’s fan club is called?”

“It says here it’s called the Katsutaku,” says Haifa, holding up her phone. “Which is apparently some kind of really lame pun in Japanese?”

“I meant,” Vika giggles, paying no attention to this potentially useful information, “The part about Yura and JJ telling you you can’t see each other again. I mean, this is obviously an important issue-”

“-not really-”

“And I feel like they should be the ones to pronounce a verdict. We are here for them, after all.”

Anya prepares for someone to oppose this plan--harassing people over a fandom war is stupid, it’s not actually that big a deal, they can deal with their own problems--before realizing that anyone who thinks that way is probably not obsessed enough to fly from Canada to Russia to watch people ice skate. Disturbingly, both fan clubs seem to be nodding in agreement.

“We can’t distract them with something this stupid before a competition,” Haifa tries desperately. It’s good to know that there is someone rational and intelligent and extremely attractive on her side, but it’s not enough.

“Then it’s decided,” Vika crows. “We’ll bring the matter before Yura and JJ after the free skate. Their verdict will be final.”

Ironically enough, this is the first time that Yuri’s Angels and JJ’s Girls have ever collectively agreed on anything.

 

They can’t go out for dinner like they’d planned to do at the Rostelecom Cup, because they are tailed for the entire night. Vika even sends an Angel to Anya’s room to make sure she doesn’t sneak out before she goes to bed. Anya often wonders why she joined this fandom, and she has to watch the recordings of Onsen on Ice for about half an hour before her love for Yuri’s skating is rekindled.

She checks her phone after her bodyguard leaves for the night. Haifa has texted her six times over the course of the night, which causes her to panic slightly.

_I’m so sorry, I was being stalked all night,_ she says before she even reads the messages.

_Are you ok?_ the first one says.  
_Do you want to sneak out of the hotel and meet up somewhere? I don’t know anything about Moscow but do you maybe know a place?_  
_You there?_  
_Are you mad at me?_  
_Whatever happens, I want you to know that I still like you. I don’t care what they say. I was serious about leaving JJ’s Girls if they say we can’t see each other, that’s just beyond stupid.  
_ _I don’t need to be part of a club that tells me I can’t talk to the people I love._

Anya puts her hand over her mouth to suppress the loudest squeak she has ever produced.

_I feel the same way, she types breathlessly. We’re sitting together at the short program tomorrow and we’re getting Yuri and JJ to tell them off so we can rub it in their faces._

_Have I told u it’s vry attractive when u get determined?_

_Stop flirting I’m trying to be serious_

_Ok night ily_

_Ily too_

 

They do sit together at the short program, which Anya half-hopes will provoke their respective fan clubs to disown them, but no such luck. All it gets them is “increased security” during the free, which hampers her ability to enjoy Yuri’s stunning performance. Even that isn’t enough to get him the gold, however, and before long the competition is wrapping up and Anya is stuck in a hotel waiting for the airport shuttle with a bunch of rabid fangirls looking for their idol. Next to her the JJ’s Girls are on a similar hunt with another prisoner trapped in their midst. For a split second she and Haifa lock eyes, but then the fangirls let out a collective screech.

It's easy to pick Yuri Plisetsky from the line waiting for the shuttle, not only because she has spent years watching him skate but because he instinctively bolts when Yuri's Angels come into view. Unfortunately for Anya, his coach grabs him by the jacket and starts to lecture him about running off. She feels sympathetic, looking into his panicked eyes--there’s no escape for either of them now.

“Yuratchka,” Vika whispers reverently, “Normally we wouldn't bother you-”

It is to the eternal detriment of the Yuri's Angels that nobody laughs at this statement.

“-but this is urgent.” She grabs Anya roughly by the arm and pulls her to the front of the crowd. “This is Uliana. Until recently she remained your faithful follower, but she has taken up with one of these heathens.”

“We're right here, you know,” drawls one of the JJ’s Girls. Vika glares at her, but keeps plugging away.

“We stand before your greatness to ask your opinion on this important matter. Should Uliana be allowed to associate with a member of JJ’s Girls?”

Yuri stands there, mouth agape, apparently paralyzed by confusion. He's not quite as ethereal up close, Anya thinks (is that a zit on his nose?), and he seems not to have realized the extent of his fans’ devotion to him. Unfortunately, the way his forehead is creasing and his eyes are narrowing suggests that he’s defaulting to anger mode to deal with this problem, and that is not going to end well for anyone.

“Signing autographs for your fans, Fairy Princess? You’re so considerate!”

Strolling up the sidewalk with a rolling suitcase depicting the Canadian flag and a complete lack of social consciousness is, sure enough, Jean-Jacques Leroy himself. He’s beaming at Yuri as if he’s unaware of how much the younger skater hates him, which might actually be true. Immediately the JJ’s Girls flank him, complaining about Vika’s overly dramatic behavior.

“Unfortunate as this development is, Yuratchka, we must humbly request your answer. We swore an organizational oath that we would stand by your verdict.”

Anya is about to point out that she made no such oath when Leroy leans awkwardly over her right shoulder.

“What seems to be your problem, Yuri? Maybe I can help!”

Yuri explodes. “You can fuck right off, JJ! There wouldn’t even be a problem if you weren’t such a piece of-” His coach starts reprimanding him again, which blurs their separate screaming into a continuous stream of white noise.

Clearly, they are getting nowhere with Yuri, so Anya turns to JJ, completely done trying. “Will you please tell your fanclub I can date my girlfriend so we can all leave?”

JJ blinks--whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that--but quickly recovers. Perhaps he is more seasoned in the insanity of fandom than Yuri. “Sure thing!” he cries, thumping Anya soundly on the shoulder and turning to the JJ’s Girls. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

“Right here,” Haifa says unsteadily, pushing her way to the front. She’s clearly starstruck.

“Now you listen to me!” JJ declares, somehow managing to sound both authoritative and cheerful. “I don’t know why I need to tell you this, but you shouldn’t tell other people how to live their lives. If these ladies want to see each other, they can see each other. Was that what you wanted?”

Anya nods, her opinion of JJ Leroy vastly improved. “Thank you very much.”

“Yuratchka!” Vika squeals unhappily, ignoring the fact that Yuri is throwing a public tantrum. “Do something to stop this!”

“Does it look like I care?” he growls. “Just leave people alone for once!”

There is more shouting, and JJ is doing some kind of obnoxious gesture with his hands and signing things for his fan club, and the Yuri’s Angels are trying to figure out how this affects the ongoing conflict between themselves and the JJ’s Girls, but none of it matters, because Haifa reaches out to hold her hand.

Before their flights leave Moscow, they go on their first date.

 

The Grand Prix Final is a long-awaited event for both of them. They talk to each other every day beforehand, of course, and they joke about meeting on even ground, not in Canada or Russia but halfway in between. Both of them are pretty sure JJ will win, and Anya isn’t even mad about it. If he’s willing to talk a mob of fangirls off the warpath without asking any questions and is skilled to boot, he deserves the gold in Anya’s book. They arrive in Barcelona a day early (Haifa is wearing a pair of cat ears, and Anya a JJ’s Girls t-shirt that she did not get mostly to upset Vika). They keep holding hands while JJ wipes out on his short program, while Vika and her Angels post countless pictures of Yuri and his new (boy?)friend Otabek Altin (“He’s a total Angel, I told you,” Anya sighs, shaking her head), while Victor Nikiforov announces that he’s engaged to his protégé. They stay up until three in the morning in Dad and Anya’s hotel room the night after the free skate, writing a Tumblr post about the reasons JJ did, in fact, deserve the bronze, and make enemies of two more fanclubs as a result.

“@mrs_giacometti31 just told me I clearly value technical difficulty over artistry and there is no hope for my generation,” Anya giggles, drunk on lack of sleep, “Should I tell her I don’t blame her for undervaluing technical difficulty since her favorite came in fifth?”

“That’s too mean,” Haifa yawns, snuggling into her shoulder. She’s still wearing the kitty ears over a pink headscarf. “And besides, Christophe Giacometti is still a really good skater. We can’t be hypocrites.”

“I’ll send her that interview you showed me where JJ talks about choreographing his jumps to blend in with the performance.”

Haifa shifts on her shoulder and oh, her lips are pressing against Anya’s neck. She feels her whole upper body flush. And now Haifa’s talking, what is she saying? “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you actually read those things, Anya. You listen when I rant about stuff...and you make me want to do the same for you. I just...really like you.”

“You said that before,” Anya croaks. Her voice has decided that now is the time to crack and she hates it for betraying her. “On the bus. Before we almost-”

She breaks off because Haifa is leaning up to finish what they started that day and her thoughts are suddenly going too fast for her to understand them. All she can fully wrap her mind around is the sensation of Haifa’s lips pressed firmly against her own. It’s...warm, and dry, and she tries moving her lips a little so they’re not just sitting on a hotel bed with their faces pressed together like a couple of idiots. It gets better after that.

They break apart when Dad lets out a particularly loud snore from the other bed. “That was nice,” Anya says, because her brain is not functioning at its full capacity right now. “Can we do that again?”

They do it again. @mrs_giacometti31’s ask never does get answered.


End file.
